I'd been watching the house for a while, thinking about the conversation Vincent and I had when I told him I was going to see my son tonight.

"Don't go, Tony," he pleaded with me. "It can be a set-up. Remember what your son said in the interview. He's going to arrest you.""Why would he wait so long? He could have called the police on me anytime when I was waiting for hours in front of his uncle's house.""I don't know Tony, I don't like it. I don't like it at all.""This might be my only chance to patch things up with him, Vince. I cannot afford not to come.""And he knows it too. Let me go instead. I still owe you.""No. I don't want him to think I don't trust him. I promise I'll give you a call how it went when I get back home, Papa," I joked.He wasn't smiling. "You better."

The house didn't seem welcoming at all, not like the one they used to live in when my beloved Beryl still graced the face of this world with her existence. It didn't have a back entrance either. I started moving. It's the front door this time then. As I was approaching it, my gut was screaming at me to get out of there. For once I didn't listen.

​I paused at the door. Should I knock? I raised my hand, then I changed my mind and grabbed the handle. The door wasn't locked. Is my son waiting for me? What is he doing? Watching tv? Reading a book? Talking to his sisters? But as I was moving through the house I heard nothing but silence. Shouldn't I be hearing their voices? Girls are usually chatty, are they not?

With no effort I made it through the empty kitchen into the living room. There he was. Has he grown taller since I saw him last time? I couldn't remember and it bothered me. It's been too long. Too long for the two of us to remain strangers. I felt tears in my eyes seeing him standing there just like that. "Chris..." I said softly, my own voice sounding hoarse to my ears.

"You've come," he said without turning around to face me. "And on time for a change."

That stung, but I wouldn't let his reproach to deter me. I cleared my throat. "I told you long time ago, that I would come if you ever needed my help."

"Help? Yes, I guess you could put it that way. I'll definitely be needing something from you."

I slowly walked up to him, my heart beating faster with rekindled hope. "Anything, son. What do you need me to do?"

He spun around so that I could see his face at last. He gave a short humourless laugh. I blinked in surprise. He was looking at me with such contept and hostility that sent chills down my spine. "It's really simple, dad." I cringed inwardly at the way he used my title, making it sound like an insult. "I need you to finally answer for your crimes. I need you to turn yourself in. But because I know that beside being a murderer you're also a coward, I'm not giving you a choice this time."

At that moment I heard an ominous sound of multiple guns being locked and loaded and a female voice shouting the necessary, "Freeze!" followed by stomping feet as the cops were pouring in the room, and then more shouting, "Put your hands in the air, where I can see them, you son of a bitch!"​

When I was younger I imagined I would go down in a rain of bullets if the police ever cornered me, taking some of them with me. I would probably be still capable of taking down at least one or two of them, for instance the cop standing in the kitchen door and watching the scene as if he was on the movies. He wore no vest posing the easiest of the targets. I could take down the cop by the window as well, he may be wearing a vest, but there was no furniture standing between him and me that he could use as a cover. A clean shot to the head and he would be done in a blink of an eye. Then the woman behind Chris would most likely put an end to my spree by shooting me in the back if I wasn't fast enough to move out of her firing line, which Chris should have done by now, my foolish boy. What do they teach them in the police school? No way was I risking a stray bullet hitting my wayward boy.​I could also reach for my knife and slit the throat of the blonde that had called me a son of a bitch and was now approaching me warily, a gun in one hand, cuffs in the other. That would make things a bit messy, the way I used to like it, just enough for some of the squeamish cops to lose their lunch or send them into frenzy, making them prone to make mistakes. Chris would also have to redecorate.

I would have tried to eliminate all of them if I didn't see things differently today. Some of these people were most likely my son's friends. They shared the same misguided ideals of a world free of men like me. But more importantly I could not put Chris through yet another ordeal and let him watch the death of another parent. So I went down on my knees and let them do their job, hoping that if nothing else my arrest would bring some peace to my son.​When the blond-haired cop pushed me to the floor, making me kiss the carpet while cuffing me and stripping me of all my carefully hidden weapons - under different circumstances I would have enjoyed her attention very much - a thought sprang to my mind. Papa Vincent won't be happy that I didn't make it home before curfew.​

* * * * *

Terry

I was put in charge of the operation in the Heffners' house. I had several reservations to the whole plan, but both Chris and the chief were so eager to do it that they didn't listen. I knew what drove Ron - he was already seeing himself in the council chair - but Chris' motivation really worried me. Corleonesi was his father and although I had no insight into their relationship, I've learned over the years that prison bars can't sever the blood bond no matter how much you wish it would. I was all for handing the man over to justice, but I didn't like the idea of Chris being present at the arrest and I worried how it would affect him. Not to mention the fact that if anything went wrong we would have to shoot the man. The idea itself was giving me a fitful sleep.

And then there was Kellie Heffner. From the few conversations I had with her about Corleonesi I gathered that unlike Chris she was rather fond of the man despite knowing him so little. Did she view him as a father figure or did she romanticize him? He'd gained quite a fan base when the books Beryl Heffner wrote were published. I still remember Alvarez having her nose buried in those books - "It's in purpose of investigation!" she kept saying, "May be some clues in there on where to find that bastard." I didn't want to do anything that would upset Kellie. Neither Chris for that matter, but him I could supervise directly.

I wanted to be involved in Corleonesi's arrest as little as possible, which would probably make my colleagues tap their foreheads, because they smelled promotion, but it's hard to do when you're in charge. I did a lot of delegation. I decided to let Alvarez do the very arrest. She looked surprised and grateful when I asked her to do it. That should at least put a stop to her teasing about Kellie Heffner for a few weeks.​None of us actually believed that Corleonesi would show up. This wasn't our first attempt to lure him out of hiding. Over the years we had used various assets to get him - former lovers, weapon dealers - but the old fox had never showed up. So we all stared at him hypnotized when he did. We almost didn't dare to breathe on our positions not to alert him to our presence when we watched him standing outside the house. I bet he smelled the danger and didn't want to go inside, but he did eventually. I had to shake my head, I couldn't believe our luck.

The conversation he had with Chris must have been a great distraction. He didn't hear us changing positions at all. I gave the sign and we went in. Alvarez a little overzealous charged in shouting. I have no idea why she felt it necessary to call him names - to convince herself or us she had every intention to do her worst to him at the merest hint of movement? She did a good job though and had him disarmed and cuffed in no time and informed him about his rights.

She shone with pride. It made me think it might have not been a good idea to let her do it after all. She was going to act unbearably conceited for who knows how long. I also noticed her touching Corleonesi a little too often, pushing and proding him. Why on earth was she doing it? We didn't want a lawsuit for inappropriate treatment on our hands. I decided to put an end to it. "Anita." She didn't hear me. I had to shout at her. "Anita! Take Parker and secure the perimeter." She grumbled something and complied.

That left me to deal with Chris. He looked as if it had finally dawned on him what he'd done. As I was afraid it affected him badly. He was putting on a brave face, but I saw the signs. Stiff posture, sagged shoulders. I knew guilt when I saw it. Been there. I walked up to him. "Chris, are you alright?"

He twitched as I touched his shoulder. "Sure. I'm fine." He smiled, but I could see he forced himself to do so.

"We can talk when we're done here, if you want," I offered.

"Sure," he said again and I had a feeling he's barely listening to what I'm saying. His eyes kept wandering to his father.

I sighed. I will have to suggest him for counceling sessions, I thought.​

Corleonesi on the other hand was acting calmly all the time. He looked sad that I almost felt sorry for him. I had to remind myself that this man was far from harmless. He'd been marked as dangerous psychopath by the profilers. As far as I knew he could have been planing how to slit our throats and cut us all into pieces at that very moment.​

Meanwhile some idiot had alerted the press. If it was one of our people I was going to have their head. I peeked out the door. Shit! Was it all Newcrest out there? It's going to be even more difficult to get Corleonesi in the car peacefully. The mess outside could give him some stupid ideas and he could try to escape. I had no choice I had to call reinforcements. There was no way we could get through the crowd on our own. We waited and watched Corleonesi like hawks.

​When the reinforcements arrived I could finally give the order to move.

I watched everything warily, especially the crowd. We managed to get Corleonesi in the car safely. I breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from my forehead. We did it.

Then I spotted a flash of red hair in the crowd. Kellie Heffner was coming home and the look on her face made my heart stop.

Author's note: This was one of them, the chapter that you write with a lump in your throat. Most of you know that there's no one else who loves Tony more than me. I couldn't let him be completely passive while this terrible thing was happening to him. His son's betrayal hurt like hell, he was supposed to be devastated, but because there's a piece of me in him, I made him fight the pain with humor. I gave him all those lovely killer thoughts, but never let him stop being a father, not for a second. There's a huge heart beating in his chest.

I and some of my fellow simlit writers noticed a very interesting phenomenon concerning Tony. We let him enter our stories and we were planing to let him do some killing (or/and reproducing :o) ) and get rid of him. But he wouldn't leave. He would show us he's more than a disposable tool, he's a man capable of strong emotions and great sacrifices.

Big thanks to Beverly Allit also known as Princess Paranoia for the incredibly amazing ccs and poses. Without them this chapter couldn't have been written, not to mention that they made Tony look irresistible even this dark moment of his life.​